


In Which Apolo Ohno Doesn't Win a Gold Medal

by smithereen



Category: Figure Skating RPF, Olympics RPF, Speed Skating RPF
Genre: Bets, M/M, Olympics, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-10
Updated: 2011-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-24 11:24:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithereen/pseuds/smithereen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would have happened if instead of Tanith and Johnny rooming together at the 2010 Olympics, Apolo and Johnny had roomed together? Obviously, sex. That's just logic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Apolo Ohno Doesn't Win a Gold Medal

Apolo pushed open the door to his room cautiously, poking his head in first like he was afraid- He didn't know what he was afraid of exactly. It wasn't like he thought a stray bucket of gayness was going to get dumped over his head or something, even if there _were_ like, little scarves draped over all the lamps to make the whole room soft and rosy looking. Even if the whole place smelled like a girl. It was cool, he wasn't scared.

"Anybody here?" he called out, dragging his suitcase in behind him. He dumped his duffle on the bed without the 50 million fluffy pillows all over it. When the Olympic Housing Committee had told him there was a "situation" of course he'd agreed to having a roommate. He'd wanted a single, yeah, but he was good at rolling with whatever he got dealt. But then Johnny Weir had called him and asked him if he had any favorite divas because Johnny was going shopping and he had a ton of Audrey Hepburn posters already, but he'd be happy to pick up something for Apolo if he wanted someone on the so called "inspiration wall" and then Johnny had talked for five straight minutes about how bare walls gave him literal hives and did Apolo mind if he took the bed on the south side of the room because Johnny liked to sleep with his feet pointing east and well- Look. It wasn't the gay thing. Apolo wasn't homophobic, really he wasn't. But he didn't know Johnny that well, and he could already tell they had nothing in common and just- It just felt like it was going to be a weird couple of weeks that's all.

"Hey, roomie," a voice said behind him. Apolo looked over, startled.

"Oh-" he said. Johnny had on gigantic sunglasses that covered up half his face, and an expensive looking scarf tucked into his stylish red coat. Apolo looked down at his USA team jacket, feeling suddenly underdressed. "Hey." He lifted his hand in a tentative wave. Johnny grabbed hold of Apolo's arm, leaning in abruptly. Apolo froze as Johnny's soft cheek pressed against his, lips smacking softly beside his ear. His hair was still a little wet like he'd taken a shower recently. He smelled good, sort of spicy and sharp, and not at all like a girl. Not at all like what Apolo had expected. Not that Apolo had spent time thinking about what Johnny Weir smelled like or anything, just he'd thought- He didn't know. He pulled back, flustered. He hoped he wasn't going to say anything stupid or be like, ignorant or something by accident.

"So what do you think?" Johnny said, wheeling a black bag in behind him. He twirled in the middle of the room with his hands turned up.

"It smells nice?" Apolo said.

"Thanks," Johnny smiled at him, wide-toothed. He cocked his head, hand on his hip, eyes narrowed critically. "You're cuter in person."

Apolo's eyebrow rose, but he smiled. A compliment was a compliment, yo. "Thanks."

"Except," Johnny frowned and touched his chin. "What's this thing?" He shook his head, baring his teeth a little in a _yikes_ face.

Apolo laughed. "It's kind of my trademark."

Johnny hung up his coat neatly, unwrapped his scarf, toed off his shoes. "Even Pepsi changes their trademark once in a while." He unzipped his bag and pulled out an iPod, flinging himself back onto his mountain of pillows. "You could use a haircut too."

Apolo grimaced. "I don't know if I can handle this much honesty this early in the morning."

"Please only take about thirty five percent of what I say seriously. We'll get along better." Johnny untangled the cords of his headphones with elegant fingers. "I just like to fix things," he said. "Clean them up. Make them prettier. I could totally fix you."

"I mean, I appreciate your-" Apolo hesitated. "Opinion?" He smiled a little to show there were no hard feelings. "But I'm pretty much happy with how I am, you know?"

"That's just because you don't know any better." Johnny grinned suddenly. "What do you say, if I win the gold medal I get to upgrade you? Haircut, shave, your face is mine. It'll give me extra motivation." He teasingly flicked his eyebrows up and plugged one of his earbuds into his ear.

Apolo looked at him skeptically. He didn't really follow figure skating, but he knew Johnny had only finished third at Nationals. There was no way he was getting a gold medal. Apolo shrugged, smiling a little. "Why not." He cocked his head, still smiling. "And what do I get if I win a gold medal?"

Johnny looked up in the middle of shoving the other earbud into his ear. "You can fuck me."

Apolo's heart gave a startled thump, shock catching his breath in his throat, heat flushing his cheeks. He stared at Johnny for an endless moment, before Johnny broke into a laugh.

"You should see your face right now," he said, smirking.

Apolo's laughter jittered nervously in his throat. It was going to be a really weird couple of weeks.

*

Johnny was actually a good roommate. Granted Apolo only got like one fourth of the closet space; and granted sometimes when Apolo got back from a training session Lady Gaga would be blaring loud enough to hear all the way down the hallway, and Johnny would be "dancing out the stress" in front of the full length mirror on the back of the door. Usually in his underwear. But whatever, it was the Olympics, people got to deal with that however they wanted. At least Johnny didn't snore and wasn't a slob and his sense of humor maybe took Apolo a minute to get used to, but he was actually really funny. They didn't see each other that much, but Apolo found he kind of weirdly looked forward to getting back to the room at the end of the day so he could hear all the latest figure skating gossip. He only knew who like half the people even were, but Johnny did hilarious impressions and accents, and it was just nice to laugh and think about something other than the tired burn in his legs or the fact that if he didn't get at least two medals the entire country was going to consider him a disappointment.

Johnny was more serious than Apolo had thought too, about his sport. Apolo kind of, he didn't know exactly where he got the idea because you didn't make it to the Olympics without a lot of talent and dedication, but he'd kind of thought Johnny was a light-weight. Like, talented but not a real _athlete_ , like he was lazy or mentally weak or something. He didn't know where it came from, he just had this stupid idea, this stupid _wrong_ idea. And he felt kind of embarrassed now, about how once when they bumped into each other in the middle of the afternoon, just crossing paths in the room before Apolo went out to do his second workout of the day, Johnny had come in and Apolo had said, "You been shopping?" And he hadn't even meant anything by it, he'd just- Johnny talked about shopping a lot, so he'd thought- He'd just kind of said it. And Johnny had said, "Training actually." He'd said, "This is the Olympics. I didn't come here to shop." And he'd smiled this hard smile, not angry exactly, but just- Like he heard that kind of thing a lot.

Apolo had felt like such a shit. He still didn't even like to think about it, still felt a hot rush of embarrassment that he'd been that stupid. Because of course Johnny was training. He was an Olympic competitor, of course he was _working_ and not shopping. Of course he _wanted_ this just like they all did, had sacrificed and fought for it. Of course. Apolo was an idiot.

Apolo went and watched him once, the day before the short program. He just had a little free time, and he thought about going up to Whistler to see some downhill or something, to cheer Team USA on. But then he'd ended up at the training rink instead, watching Johnny skate.

It was kind of- Like, figure skating wasn't really Apolo's thing. He respected the training it took to do it, but he didn't really get it necessarily. There was no finish line, no clock, no one skating next to you. It was like the _Dancing with the Stars_ thing, not that he was comparing _Dancing with the Stars_ to Olympic level figure skating, but just- The fact that you had no control over what the judges were going to score you. Apolo liked knowing he'd won as soon as he crossed the line. Knowing that they'd all skated out together, and he'd been the best. He didn't like someone else getting to decide if he was good enough. So whatever, he didn't watch a ton of figure skating was his point. But he sat there in the corner and he watched Johnny skate. And Johnny wasn't even running through it with the music, it was just him. And it was still so- It was like- Apolo had to swallow down an honest to God lump in his throat was what it was like.

He left before Johnny was done, left without saying hi or bye or anything. He hoped Johnny hadn't seen him come in. He didn't know why even. It just seemed private somehow, like if Johnny knew he was there he'd know how Apolo had felt watching him too. Like Johnny would be able see into him that deep.

When he was trying to get to sleep that night, he kept seeing it with his eyes closed. Johnny skating, Johnny jumping, Johnny spinning. Johnny moving smooth like water, like something flickering just out of reach.

*

Johnny didn't win the gold. Apolo thought about going to the event, but the idea of being around that many people while Johnny skated left him feeling a little bit raw. So he went out to dinner with his dad and a couple guys from the team, and he carefully didn't check the standings on his phone, even though he kind of wanted to. He turned on the TV when he got back to their room and saw Johnny had ended up sixth. Apolo felt vaguely pissed off even though no one had thought Johnny was going to get a medal out of this anyway. He took advantage of having the room to himself to stretch out, really work the kinks out of his legs. Johnny was late, later than usual.

Apolo halfway woke up to the sound of muffled giggling, drifting between awake and not awake, arms heavy, mind still a little caught in a dream as he dimly listened to rustling from the other bed. Rustling and a little bit of whispering. Two people, whispering. He woke up all the way in a rush, going tense in his bed, barely breathing. He listened to Johnny bump into the headboard, and a soft hissing, "Shhhhh." There was more hushed laughter, whispering, the kind of drunk whispering where someone thinks they're being quieter than they really are. None of what they were saying sounded like English. Apolo cracked an eye open. It was dark, but the blinds were open just a little, moonlight plucking out the dim shadow shapes moving on the bed.

He could see Johnny kneeling over the other boy, the glint of his teeth when he smiled, before he leaned in close to take his mouth. They kissed dirty and wide open, with careless tongues. But there was a sweetness to it, a familiarity to the way they smiled, laughed at each other, touched fingers to cheeks, to the nape of a neck. Like they'd done this before. He could hear them move, dry slide of skin on skin, the pale moonlight on Johnny's smooth back, his long legs. Apolo stared at the way Johnny's trim waist curved into the rounded, heavy swell of his ass. Johnny ground down a little, hips moving restlessly; and then he gasped, sharp, as the skin sounds turned slicker. Apolo breathed out slowly through his nose, trying not to move, not to make a sound. He squinted against the dark to catch their hands moving between them, to hear the sloppy, wet pull on each other's dicks. Apolo shifted uncomfortably, his own dick a hard, heavy throb between his legs.

He should- It felt like he should do something. If he couldn't leave, then at least look away. But Johnny was sliding down, sleek and lean, smiling wide before he wrapped his pretty lips around the other guy's cock. Apolo grabbed onto his dick under the blanket, couldn't help himself, needed it. Had to soothe that hungry ache. He worked himself off with quiet jerks, fighting not to pant, not to make a sound as he watched the guy fist his hand in Johnny's hair, watched Johnny take him deep, his fingers pressing into the guy's hips, sliding up underneath his balls. When the guy came it spattered all shiny against Johnny's mouth, his chin glistening wet. Apolo bit his lip so hard he could taste blood in his mouth, body trembling with the effort to stay still, stay quiet as he coated his hand with come.

*

Apolo couldn't really get back to sleep, even after the sounds from the other bed trailed off into low, slow breathing. He wanted to be unconscious more than anything because being unconscious would mean he didn't have to _think_ , and he really couldn't deal with thinking right now. But his brain wouldn't shut off, kept spinning in touchy little circles as he went through the past five races he'd won and he practiced what he was going to say the next time he sat down with Bob Costas and he planned out every single delicious, fatty thing he was going to gorge himself on when the season was over. And he carefully, carefully did _not_ think about the fact that his hand was still a little sticky, that he could hear both of them breathing on the other side of the room, not quite in synch. He gave up an hour before his alarm was set to go off, sitting up, his whole body feeling heavy, exhausted. He grabbed some clothes blindly out of his dresser and yanked on his running shoes as quietly as he could. His keys jangled loudly when he picked them up with clumsy fingers.

He shot at anxious glance at the other bed. Johnny's eyes slitted open, glittering in the dark. Apolo tensed, fist tightening around his keys. Johnny looked right at Apolo for a long moment, bold, his chin hooked over the other boy's shoulder. Johnny smiled slowly, flashing teeth. His arm tightened around the other boy's waist. Apolo watched the way his fingers slid, pressed down against bare skin. The boy turned into Johnny, curled into him, making a sleepy, wanting noise.

Apolo stumbled backwards for the door.

*

It was so early the sun wasn't even up, the graying dark slowly lightening as Apolo ran along the mostly deserted streets. He took deep, hard breaths, forced himself calm like he'd learned to do before a race. Tried not to be anything but his body moving, not to feel anything but his feet thudding against the pavement. Every quick footfall landed in time with the chant in his head that went, "NotGayNotGayNotGay." He didn't think that was helping. He tried to force his mind clear, blank.

He took a shower at the gym before heading back to the Village, braced his hands on the tile and bowed his head under the hot water. He had to get it together. He had races to skate. He had one goal. He couldn't afford to be distracted. He didn't have time for this, this- Whatever this was.

Okay.

So, okay he'd jacked off watching a couple guys have sex. So what? Guys watched lesbian porn, that didn't make them lesbians. And with celibacy a part of his competition routine, it had been weeks since he'd gotten off. He could have gotten hard for anything at this point, for a picture of sushi or something. It wasn't- He took a deep breath. It wasn't anything. It wasn't a big deal. He forced his body to relax, go loose. He was good at this. At controlling his body, his mind, at keeping things organized in his head, locked up tight where they wouldn't get in the way, distract him. He shoved it all into the drawer labeled "Do not open until after the Olympics. Or ever."

It was fine. It was nothing.

*

He felt better when he got back to the room, calmer. The run had taken a lot of the heaviness from his body, and he felt like he was in his right mind again, like he could remember now why he was here and who he was and not feel like everything solid, everything he knew had just- Whatever. Shit happened when you were at the Olympics, the pressure did stuff to you, but he'd never let it get to him before and it wasn't getting to him now. He didn't get distracted. He was strong. Prepared. He felt good.

When he ducked back into the room, Johnny was still in bed. The other guy was still with him. They stirred groggily when Apolo dumped his keys on the dresser. The light by Johnny's bed clicked on. He propped himself up on his elbow. "Good morning." His voice was rough with sleep.

"Morning," Apolo said.

The boy next to him rolled over and wiggled his fingers a little sheepishly. He didn't really look embarrassed to be naked in bed with another boy, he just looked a little shy and halfway still asleep. He had dark eyes, and high cheekbones, and his brown hair was sticking up in about six different directions.

"This is Stéphane," Johnny said. "That's Apolo."

Apolo decided shaking hands was probably not necessary under the circumstances. "I heard your long program went well," he said to Johnny. He grabbed his workout clothes and stuffed them into his duffle, keeping his hands busy.

"I was fantastic," Johnny said. "But not fantastic enough." He leaned his head back against Stéphane's shoulder, looked up through his eyelashes. "We've been consoling ourselves on our losses."

"Our sweeping losses," Stéphane agreed in accented English.

"Our grand and sweeping losses," Johnny nodded. "And _I_ ," Johnny said, "am consoling myself on Evan's win. Because I'm notoriously ungracious." Stéphane snorted, bent knuckle rubbing against his closed eye. He said something in what Apolo was pretty certain was French. Johnny grinned, said something back that was also probably French. Johnny looked over at Apolo, still smiling. "Galina told me if I didn't fall on my ass, I could skip morning practice for one day, so we're sleeping in." He stretched lean arms up above his head, body curving with it. He yawned wide. "Later we're going to eat ice cream."

"But only a little ice cream," Stéphane said.

"We can't get fat yet," Johnny agreed. "Not until after Worlds." He snaked his hand down and pinched at Stéphane's ribs. Stéphane laughed, turning his face into the crook of Johnny's shoulder. His hand spread wide over the smooth skin of Johnny's belly. The sheets shifted around them, slipping low. There was a dark bruise on Johnny's hip, the kind of bruise that came from falling against the ice. There was a fainter bruise on Johnny's shoulder, the kind of bruise that came from lips and teeth. Apolo looked away to touch his skates, to pack a spare set of clothes he didn’t need, to move his iPod from the left pocket to the right pocket of his duffle.

He was not at all distracted.

*

Apolo had changed his mind, Johnny was not a good roommate at all. Johnny was the worst roommate ever. He would rather have had someone who made loud phone calls at 1am or someone who left half-eaten pizza everywhere, who spread toenail clippings all over the bathroom or used Apolo's clothes to clean the floors. He would rather have had anyone else. Because the thing was, Johnny was just too naked. He was way, way too naked most of the time.

It wasn't exactly new for him to wander through the room in his underwear, but now it seemed like he was more naked than that. Apolo couldn't quite tell if he'd actually been less naked before, or if Apolo just hadn't noticed. Before, Johnny being naked had just been something that happened sometimes, like how the signal always went out on channel nine or how if you opened the closet door too fast the iron would fall off the shelf. Before, Johnny's long, bare back hadn't made Apolo think about hands sliding over his shoulders, and Johnny's lean chest hadn't made Apolo think about lips closing over one of his nipples. Before, the tight stretch of his black underwear over his ass hadn't made Apolo feel like his skin was too small, feel a deep down ache of something sharp and needy.

Johnny was still busy, with training, with the press, with the little circle of pretty Russian skater girls and almost equally pretty boys of indeterminate nationality who whisked him off at all hours; but he was around more now that he'd finished his event. And he was mostly naked. So Apolo tried _not_ to be around as much as possible.

Training was good. Training blanked him out, swept his head clear. He spent as much time as he could training, working right up to the edge of going overboard, only stopping when he knew he was at the point where any more would wear him out for the races. He spent the rest of his time with the guys from the team or with his dad or out at one of the events. He stayed away from the room until he was completely exhausted, too tired to think, ready to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He still woke up a couple times in the morning painfully hard, with vague impressions of skin and heat, soft hair under his fingers and a pretty smiling mouth. But it was no big deal. He took cold showers and kept his hand off his dick. He stayed focused.

He came in third in the 1500m, hung up his bronze medal beside his silver on the edge of his dresser mirror.

"No gold yet?" Johnny said with a knowing wink, a flirty cocked hip. Apolo felt himself shock all over with heat. A spiked throb of heat that centered down low, that made the back of his neck burn and his dick ache.

"Are you actually allergic to pants?" he said irritably, overheated and uncomfortable. "Did you forget to pack any?"

Johnny smirked, a hard twist of his lips. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Apolo crossed his arms over his chest. "A little bit, yeah."

Johnny crowded up close to him, close enough that Apolo could feel the heat of him against his skin. Apolo tried to back up, running out of room with the dresser behind him. He could feel the light brush of Johnny's chest against his crossed arms. He hugged himself tighter, trying to make himself smaller. "What about now?" Johnny said. He leaned in deliberately to press himself closer, to whisper in Apolo's ear. "Is this making you uncomfortable?"

Apolo's jaw clenched. "You know it is."

He could feel Johnny's breath on his neck, warm. His heart was beating too fast. His whole body was tight, his spine locked up, frozen between leaning into that dangerous heat, leaning away from it. He put his hand on Johnny's chest, bare skin slipping against his fingers as he pushed him back, gave himself a little room to breathe. Johnny's jaw tightened, eyes narrowed. He leaned in again, pushing up against Apolo until he was bent backwards a little into the dresser. His hand fisted in Apolo's shirt, holding him still.

"It's not going to rub off on you," Johnny said, bitter. He reached out, touched Apolo's neck, his arm, slid his fingers up the line of Apolo's jaw. He leaned in close, nose nudging up behind Apolo's ear, his fingers tightening around Apolo's waist. Apolo flushed with prickly heat, embarrassed, upset as he felt his dick start to thicken in his pants. Johnny met Apolo's eyes, angry. Apolo didn't really get why he looked so _angry_. His long fingers pressed a little against Apolo's jaw, thumb tucked up under Apolo's chin. "I'm not contagious," he said, voice brittle as he leaned in again. Apolo braced to feel the soft tickle of breath by his ear, but Johnny pressed his lips solidly against Apolo's, hard, like he was making a point.

For a weird moment they were just standing there with their lips mashed together. And then Apolo was opening up for him, mouth going soft and needy, opening up for the push of his lips, the flick of his tongue. Apolo couldn't help making a muffled sound in the back of his throat, couldn’t help the way he leaned forward a little, chasing after Johnny's lips when he pulled back. He was breathing hard, his hand tight around Johnny's wrist. He let go awkwardly.

"Oh," Johnny said softly, all the hard anger gone out of him. He looked uncertain for maybe the first time since Apolo had met him. And then he said, " _Oh_ ," like he could see everything now. Apolo shivered, feeling completely exposed. "I think what we have here, is a failure to communicate," Johnny said as he cupped his hand against Apolo's dick, feeling how hard he was in his pants. He slid the heel of his hand down, and Apolo jerked, red faced, trying to pull away and push himself forward at the same time. Oh God, he wanted- But he couldn't-

Johnny leaned in and kissed him again, dirtier this time, sucking hard on Apolo's bottom lip, teeth scraping, sloppy. His mouth was so wet, hot when Apolo licked into him, sunk his tongue inside. His bare chest burned through Apolo's shirt. His hand tangled in Apolo's hair, tilting his head back for a better angle. He worked the zipper of Apolo's pants down and tugged his cock out, thumb sliding over the slit. His hot hand circled around Apolo's dick, just holding on to him as Apolo thrust shallow and desperate into his circled fingers, hips jerking helplessly.

"I'll suck you off," Johnny said, breathless, muffled against Apolo's throat, tongue flicking out against his skin. "Can I suck you off?"

Apolo panted, his dick twitching, spurting a blurt of precome with the thought of that hot mouth on him, those pretty lips stretched around him. He couldn't think about anything but getting inside that heat, about how badly he needed- "Oh, G- God- Please," he stuttered.

Johnny was graceful going to his knees, jerking Apolo's pants, his underwear down to mid-thigh. He didn't wait around, pumped Apolo's cock with his hand a couple times, putting a nice twist into it. And then he had his hand on Apolo's hip, pushing Apolo back against the dresser, keeping him still as he opened his mouth over the head, slid down.

Apolo grunted, knuckles going white with how hard he was holding onto the dresser, how hard he was fighting not to snap his hips, fuck into that hot, smooth, wet, good. So good. Fuck. Johnny pulled off all the way, tongue flicking at the slit, and then took just the head with hard, hungry sucks. His tongue slicked around it, and then he slid down again, took Apolo deep, all the way down. Apolo made a ridiculous high-pitched whimpery sound in the back of his throat, and felt the stretch of Johnny's lips around his cock as he smiled. Johnny's little choked laugh pushed his tongue up against the underside of Apolo's dick, the back of his throat squeezing in jerky aftershocks. Apolo went up on his toes, straining, breath coming hard through his teeth. Johnny pulled off, cold air a shock on Apolo's wet cock. He wiped at his chin with the back of his hand. Still grinning, he worked Apolo with his fist, caught his breath.

Apolo touched the top of his head carefully, slid his fingers through Johnny's hair, cupped his hand around the sweaty nape of Johnny's neck. Johnny looked up, long lashes and smiling lips. Pretty. He was so pretty. Almost like a girl. Apolo touched the shadow of stubble above his upper lip. But not like a girl. Apolo's hand slid down to brace himself on Johnny's strong shoulder as Johnny took Apolo into his mouth again. Apolo looked down at the flat, powerful planes of his chest, the sharp angles of his hips unfamiliar and strange. His eyes rolled back a little under the press of Johnny's tongue, the wet heat of his mouth not unfamiliar at all. Just good. Just so-

One of Johnny's hands curved around Apolo's hip, fingers digging into his ass. The other came up to cradle Apolo's balls, rolling them a little as he sped up on Apolo's cock. Apolo felt the heat in his gut building, dick so stiff with it, sharp and good, hotter, sweeter almost- Almost- Johnny looked up at him with his mouth all full of Apolo's cock, his eyes dark with wanting, looked up at him all flushy cheeked. Apolo came hard and sudden with his eyes squeezed shut, so hard he was seeing streaks of green and white behind his eyelids.

He sagged back against the dresser, boneless, swaying on his feet. He opened his eyes cautiously, still trying to catch his breath. Johnny was laughing quietly to himself. His tongue flicked into the corner of his mouth neatly. His lips were swollen up, plump and red. Apolo threaded his fingers through Johnny's soft hair one more time. He stood up only a little less gracefully than he'd gone down, wincing when his knee creaked. He touched Apolo's cheek, smiled. "So cute," he said. Apolo watched the pretty curve of his lips, watched the shapes they made when they moved, and wondered if Johnny was going to kiss him again. But he just touched Apolo's collarbone lightly and then backed up, away.

Apolo watched him take a few steps toward the bathroom. Johnny was hard, underwear doing nothing to hide the jut of his dick. "Don't you want me to..." Apolo trailed off, his forehead wrinkling up.

"That's-" Johnny pointed toward the bathroom with his thumb. "I can take care of it myself." He flashed a deliberately cocky grin, sliding his hand down provocatively over the bulge of his dick.

Apolo was having trouble thinking through the fucked out fuzziness in his head. It felt like his thoughts were as heavy as his body, like maybe they were so heavy he was going to tip forward onto the carpet and just lie there for a while until he could feel his legs again. So he was having a little trouble figuring out- Was this like, some cock sucking etiquette he didn't know about? Was it some kind of faux pas to offer to reciprocate on what was probably, definitely, the best blowjob of his life? Probably yeah- He thought dimly. Probably it was not a good idea to start giving anyone blowjobs. That was probably not going to help with the whole NotGay thing. But-

"That doesn't really seem fair?" he said before his thoughts had caught up all the way with his mouth. It was just- That had been a _really_ good blowjob. It didn't seem right to just roll over and go to sleep. To not do any of the work. Apolo had never been the kind of guy who refused to go down on a girl. If he got off, she got off. That was _fair_. He didn't want to be the kind of guy that just went around _taking_.

Johnny hesitated. "I'm kind of trying not to make you uncomfortable?" He was still rubbing his hand absently over his cock, less now like he was putting on a show, more like he was too wound up not to touch it. This side of desperate.

"I know, but-" Apolo flopped down on his bed in case his legs decided to stop working completely, and motioned at Johnny with his hand. "Come on. Come here."

He tugged Johnny's underwear off, and his cock sprung out thick and dark, bobbing up toward his flat stomach. He was slippery with precome, and his pubes were neatly sculpted, and Apolo had never actually been this close to anyone else's dick before. He had a bracing moment of self-doubt that woke him up a little out of the sleepy fog he'd been in where everything was dim and heavy and nothing seemed completely real. This seemed really real all of a sudden. He looked up at Johnny, and Johnny was propped up on his elbows on the bed, watching him. Waiting. Shit. Apolo worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Fair was fair, and he'd said he would- He made himself grab on to it, fingers closing over the soft, hot skin, the solid hard length. It was almost like holding onto himself, familiar, except for how it totally, totally wasn't. He let out a breath through his nose, and jacked Johnny a couple times, smooth, firm strokes the way he would have pulled at his own dick. He knew how to do this. He adjusted his grip a little, getting used to it, getting a good rhythm going. He looked up when Johnny gave an approving hum. Johnny's cheekbones were pink, and the flush of heat had spread down his neck, down his chest. His eyes were heavy-lidded and his hands were clenched in the sheets, and Apolo was doing that to him. Apolo felt his own cheeks heat. That was kind of awesome.

Apolo licked his lips absently, looking at Johnny's cock. He could just- It couldn't be that hard, right? People did it to him all the time. You just kind of put it in your mouth? He took a deep breath and leaned forward, licking cautiously against the side of it, hot skin against his mouth, salty and a little tinge of sour. He licked again, swiped tentatively over the head. Johnny jerked, his leg flexing helplessly. Apolo looked up, and Johnny was breathing hard, chest heaving. "You're killing me with this," he muttered.

"Yeah, I- Have no idea what I'm doing." Apolo pushed a hand through his hair, embarrassed. This was by far the most embarrassing thing he'd ever done in his life. And he had been on _Dancing with the Stars_ , so that was saying a lot.

"It's just a dick, not a calculus problem." Johnny motioned with his chin. "Don't try to be a porn star. Just put the tip in your mouth," he said. "Wrap your hand around the rest."

It felt big in his mouth, hot. Felt like it was taking up all the space, like there was nowhere for his tongue, his teeth to go. He just held the head of it there on his tongue for a minute, trying to get used to it, to the way it felt inside him. He flicked his tongue up experimentally, and Johnny made a low pleased sound. Apolo moved his head a little, letting it slide deeper in, push up into the top of his mouth, blunt and thick and slick smooth on his tongue. Johnny made a little grunty sound, his stomach going tight under Apolo's hand. Apolo pushed his tongue up against the underside, rubbing against the hot, hot throb of the vein as he slid down again. It wasn't- Like- It wasn't that bad. Once you got used to it a little.

It was kind of like being on the track, the way the rhythm of it focused him down until he was just his body moving. Until he was just feeling the smooth push of it into him, just listening to the sounds Johnny made. It was easy to tell what Johnny liked. His choked off pants and needy whines were like a map, getting louder, more breathless when Apolo was doing what Johnny wanted him to. Sometimes he grunted out directions, "slower" or "more" or "there. God, right there." He had a hand in Apolo's hair, pulling a little, not hard but demanding, putting Apolo right where he wanted him. Apolo liked how he didn’t have to try to figure out what he was doing, how he could just let his body move, let Johnny put him where he needed to be. He sucked absently, eyelids drooping a little, one hand curled around Johnny's dick. His fingers stroked along the hot crease of Johnny's thigh where it was slick with sweat. It was- He felt so relaxed right now, just warm all over. There was nothing but the way Johnny's thigh trembled under his fingers. The way his fingers pet the back of Apolo's neck. The thick heaviness on Apolo's tongue.

Apolo's dick twitched a little, spent but still trying to fill, chubbing up half-hard. His hips ground down a little against the mattress, sweet ache building in his balls. He bet he could go off again. He bet he could come just from- His shoulders tensed up, body going rigid. That was- That was not okay. For him to _like_ it. He wasn't supposed to- Johnny's cock felt like it didn't fit in his mouth anymore, felt like he couldn't get a breath. He pulled off, half sitting up, hand still half-heartedly jacking Johnny's dick while he tried to get his bearings, to not- Johnny's stomach jumped under his other hand, low groan from his lips as he said, "Oh, I'm gonna-" His legs tensed up, and he was coming, wet spurts of it against Apolo's fingers, his chin, messy on his bottom lip. Apolo's breath caught, shocked. His tongue flicked out reflexively, touched his lip where it was wet with thick smears of it. He swiped at his neck, his chin with his hand, scrubbing at it, breath coming hard through his nose.

Johnny stretched, lazy and long-limbed, satisfied smile on his face. His eyes slitted open, and he looked at Apolo for a long, slow blink. He held his arm out. "C'mere," he slurred. Apolo took his hand because at least it was something to hold on to, let Johnny pull him down on the bed. Johnny sucked a sticky finger into his mouth. He held Apolo's face carefully between his hands, and licked at Apolo's mouth, at his chin, at his neck. Licked him clean. Johnny sighed, sweet against Apolo's throat. His hand stroked soothing through Apolo's hair, and his tongue swept over Apolo's too rapid pulse, slow and hot. "Shhhhhh," he said. He stroked a hand down Apolo's back. "Shhhhhh." Apolo breathed in the smell of his skin, his sweat, buried his nose in the curve of Johnny's neck and just breathed until breathing was easy. Until he drifted into sleep.

 _*_

He woke up early, disoriented, blinked groggily for a moment before everything came rushing in, head crowded with things he was trying not to think about. He felt unsettled, mind whirling to keep anything from resting long enough to set down roots.

"I can hear you panicking," Johnny said, sounding loud in the silence. He nudged Apolo in the side. "Stop it."

"I'm just lying here," Apolo protested.

Johnny shot Apolo a deeply skeptical look. Apolo groaned and crammed his face into his pillow. "Look." Johnny patted him gingerly on the shoulder blade. "Don't beat yourself up for wanting to fuck me." He nudged at Apolo's ankle with his toes. " _Everyone_ wants to fuck me."

Apolo turned over onto his back. He darted a glance at Johnny, and then thought better of it and covered his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I mean, we should talk about it or something. Right?" Johnny didn't answer right away, didn't answer for a while. Apolo lifted his left hand to peek over.

Johnny looked up from where he was plucking at the sheet between them. He shrugged one shoulder, and waved it all away with his hand. "We don't need to talk about it," he said flippantly. "I've fucked around with straight guys before. I know how it works." He counted on his fingers as he said, "I'm not going to tell anyone. I don't think it means anything. And nobody's going to try to stick anything up your ass. Does that pretty much address all your concerns? Can we go back to sleep now?"

Apolo frowned at him, halfway offended, and halfway kind of a little bit sad. He scratched his fingers through his own hair. "Excuse me, if my gigantic life changing identity crisis is boring you."

Johnny rolled his eyes. "You straight guys are all such drama queens." He sounded simultaneously fond and a little disgusted. "It doesn't have to be some big identity crisis." He shook his head. "Sex isn't some- I mean, it's not some no-take-backsies thing where if you suck one cock then you're forever gay." He dramatically placed the back of his hand against his forehead. "Tainted for life."

"How many cocks do you have to suck exactly before you're considered forever gay?" Apolo smiled a little.

"Fourteen," Johnny said, with a Very Serious nod. "So we can still do this a couple more times before you need to start worrying."

Apolo snorted.

"Come on." Johnny rolled over onto his side, hugging his pillow close to his chest. "People experiment. It's natural."

Apolo curled over onto his side too, lying face to face, looking into Johnny's eyes from close up. "I know, but- I mean, I'm afraid I might-" Like it too much, Apolo didn't say. He looked at Johnny's mouth, just a little open, soft breath pushing out past his lips. Apolo's teeth sunk into his bottom lip. "I don't know," he said. "I want-" To kiss you right now. He didn't say that either. Johnny reached over and touched Apolo's bottom lip lightly with his finger tip. "I don't want to want-" His lips moved under Johnny's fingers. "To be-" Apolo shook his head, catching the words tight in his throat.

"Hey," Johnny said, little crooked grin on his lips. "It's okay." He touched Apolo on the tip of the nose. "I absolve you." He sketched the sign of the cross over Apolo's chest. His voice got lower, gentle, the smile drifting off his face. "Nothing that happens in this room is going to make you gay. Okay?" He touched Apolo again, lightly on the forehead, in the middle of his chest, on each shoulder. Johnny's fingers pressed into the hollow of his throat. And Apolo knew that this wasn't how things actually worked in the real world. That it wasn't this simple. But he really just- He just wanted to believe it. Johnny looked at him quietly for a long moment, and then his fingers tapped down once, and his mouth twisted up into a hard smile. He slapped Apolo's chest with his hand. "Now go in peace, my son. And also go back to sleep because you're keeping me up, and I get very irritable when I'm not well rested." He scooted over on the bed, scooted toward the edge of it.

"Wait, where are you going?" Apolo grabbed his thin wrist, holding on.

Jonny's forehead wrinkled up. He looked over at his bed, and then back at Apolo. "Uh. Nowhere?" he said, scooting back over. Apolo felt some of the tightness in his throat ease. Johnny lay down, and then slid over just a little, like he was making sure there was enough space between them. Apolo let go of his wrist, laid his hand on his own chest. He stared at the ceiling for a while. He peeked at Johnny out of the corner of his eye. Johnny had his eyes closed, chest rising and falling slowly. Apolo reached over, let the back of his hand press up against Johnny's hand, just touching a little.

*

They didn't really talk about it, the fact that it kept happening. Johnny seemed to think that they'd already said everything there was to say. And Apolo was afraid that the more they said, the more it would turn into something that meant something, something that mattered. During the days he worked hard, kept his mind on the training, the races coming up. Kept himself controlled, focused.

He'd grab dinner on the run, blowing off his friends when they asked him to go hang out at an event, not letting himself think too much about why he was in such a hurry. When he shut the door to the room behind him, it was just Johnny's mouth on him, his skin under Apolo's fingers. Simple.

They didn't talk about it.

*

Apolo didn't win a gold. He got back late after the relay, the room feeling extra quiet after loud, laughing hours spent with the team while they celebrated their medal. The first Olympic medal for most of them. Johnny was curled up on his bed asleep, one arm flung out wide. Apolo hung his new bronze up on the dresser next to the other two. He looked at himself in the mirror. That was it. His last Olympics. He touched the bronze, spun it with his fingers. Last medal. He let it go, turned around. Johnny was watching him. Apolo startled.

"Hey," he said. "Thought you were asleep."

"I was." Johnny rubbed his hand up over the back of his head, ruffling his hair. He yawned, jaw cracking. Apolo shucked off his shoes, his pants. Untied his bandana and tugged his shirt off over his head. He slid in on the other side of Johnny's bed.

Johnny rolled over half on top of him, legs tangling, lips pressing against his neck. He was naked, dick already stiffening up, going full and heavy against Apolo's hip. His hand stroked down Apolo's side, fingers slipping under the waistband of Apolo's underwear, tugging it off. Apolo grabbed him by the hips, shifted him over so he was settled firmly between Apolo's bent knees. Johnny propped himself up on his elbows, his necklace dangling cold on Apolo's chest. His shoulders hunched as he stretched down to drop teasing little kisses on Apolo's mouth, soft, quick push of lips as his hips ground down lazily. His hands played idly through Apolo's hair, carding all the way through it, spreading it out on the pillow above Apolo's head. Apolo smiled, slow spread of heat rippling through him like a wave. His thumbs slid back and forth over the sharp jut of Johnny's hips as they rolled against him, unhurried. He slid a hand up Johnny's chest, curled it around his neck to pull him down, part his lips and kiss him deep. Johnny gave under his hand, pressing himself flat to Apolo's chest, hips still moving. His mouth opened easily for Apolo's tongue. Apolo's dick thickened, rubbing up against Johnny's stomach. Johnny's dick nudged down past Apolo's balls, the teasing prod of it just enough to keep Apolo on edge. Not enough.

"How does it feel?" Johnny said, tongue sweeping out against the line of Apolo's jaw.

"Good," Apolo grunted. Johnny snaked a hand down between them, got his fingers circled around both their dicks so every thrust was a hot, tight slide into skin. "Really good," Apolo breathed. He palmed the heavy swell of Johnny's ass, hands pushing Johnny down, hips thrusting up.

Johnny laughed, nipped at Apolo's throat. "I meant winning eight medals." He bit and held on for a moment, teeth blunt on Apolo's skin, pulling a little. His hips shoved down, picking up just a bit of speed, still slower than Apolo needed.

"That's- That's good too," Apolo said, eyes fluttering shut.

"But no gold," Johnny said, muffled into Apolo's skin.

Apolo shook his head, back arching as Johnny's thumb circled over the tip of his cock, smearing precome, pressing down lightly against the slit.

"Setting an American record is basically the same as winning a gold, isn't it?" Johnny's slim hips thrust in steady jolts, words broken up breathlessly. "Better really."

"I guess, I-" Apolo broke off with a pant when Johnny tweaked his nipple. Was Johnny really trying to have a conversation right now, because Apolo didn't think he could handle trying to figure out what Johnny was talking about, trying to make words. Right now, words were not things he could make. "I mean, it's not-" he tried.

"I think you should fuck me," Johnny interrupted. "In case that wasn't clear."

Apolo groaned into Johnny's mouth, his dick jerking eagerly. That was- They hadn't done that before. They didn't do that.

"Do you want to?" Johnny cradled Apolo's face, hands gentle, wicked smirk on his lips. "I'll take you so deep." He nudged his nose flat against Apolo's cheek, soft whisper as he said, "Nobody's ever taken your cock like I'll take it."

"Oh my _God_." Apolo's head tipped back on his neck, body gone so hot he was weak with it. "Oh, fuck." He had to grab onto his dick hard, squeeze until he was sure he wasn't going to come right there.

Johnny kissed him, sucked wet on his tongue. "I'll take that as a yes," he said.

*

Johnny worked himself open with slick fingers, legs splayed wide, cock hard on his stomach. His breathing was light, too fast. Apolo propped his chin on Johnny's hip, watched him sink two fingers into his hole, watched them get swallowed up inside. He opened his mouth over Johnny's hipbone, sucking on his skin. He had one hand on the throb of his cock, hips moving just a little, restless as he forced himself not to thrust, not to wring, frantic at that ache. Forced himself to wait until he could get inside, to hold on, loose-clasped hand brushing light over the heavy hurt between his legs, just enough to take the edge off.

He touched curiously, laid his fingers beside Johnny's pucker, feeling the way it stretched as Johnny scissored his fingers. "Can I?" he said, pushing the tip of his finger in before the "yes" was all the way out of Johnny's mouth. He swallowed hard as his finger slid against Johnny's fingers, heat tight all around him. Johnny was slicked up inside. So tight. Johnny moaned softly. Apolo's dick jumped, impatient. He pushed a little deeper, tonguing at Johnny's hip, biting down just under the sharp jut of bone.

Johnny trembled, head tossing to the side. "Yeah," he said. "Like that. Crook your finger." His fingers pressed up against Apolo's finger inside, curled a little around it. He hummed as Apolo's finger pressed into him, cock jerking. He pushed on Apolo's finger again, and smiled, eyes shutting, sleepy with pleasure. "Remember that," he said. "When you get your dick in." He eased his fingers out, Apolo stroking one more time just to watch his eyelids flutter, watch his chest heave, before he eased out too.

Johnny turned over onto his stomach, pushed himself up onto his knees, ass in the air. He turned his head to say, "There's a condom on the end table. Get yourself wet."

Apolo had never put a condom on so fast in his life. He traced his still lube-wet hand over the ripe curve of Johnny's ass, squeezing, leaving shiny trails on the soft skin. He gripped Johnny's hips, hesitated with his dick nudged right up against Johnny's hole, hesitated just long enough to hear himself think, "what are you _doing?"_ And then he was pushing in, one slick hard thrust that took him almost all the way inside. Fuck, it was tight. Felt tighter than fucking a girl. Apolo froze, hands stroking down Johnny's sides, trying to soothe himself, trying to adjust to that tight heat. Trying not to embarrass himself by shooting off when he was just barely inside like some sixteen year old virgin. He took a slow breath, felt himself focusing down, everything narrowing down like it did when he was racing, when everything seemed like it was running in slow motion.

Johnny reached back, one hand curling tight around Apolo's thigh, pulling. "Move," he said. Apolo obeyed automatically, working himself in deeper, pulling out a little, and then the smooth slide back in. So good, that tight heat holding onto him like it didn't want to let go. Johnny had his head braced on one of his forearms; his other hand reached for his dick. Apolo grunted, pushed his hand away. "Let me," he said, Johnny's dick hard and hot in his hand. He wanted to be good at this. He wanted to make it good. He rocked in again, hard grip on Johnny's hip, angling to find the spot that would make Johnny's dick jerk in Apolo's hand, make him gasp.

"Good boy," Johnny said, words dragging slow and fond when Apolo got it right. Apolo slid in again, again, Johnny pushing forward with it, pushing into Apolo's hand on his dick. He slapped at Apolo's thigh, fingers digging in. "Harder," Johnny said, his voice twisting up a little at the end, strained. "Fuck me." Apolo fucked in harder, fucked in deep, hips snapping, needy heat coiling tight as he knocked little grunts from Johnny's lips. Apolo fucked in until there was nothing but his dick, stiff and too hot, nothing but the hard _sogood_ slide in, out, in again, the frantic need to come and the vague thought that he couldn't yet.

His hand sped up on Johnny's dick, his body hunching over Johnny's back, curling in on the too hot flush of need. Johnny made deep, sweet sounds in the back of his throat with every jagged thrust, sagging a little under the sweaty glide of Apolo's chest against Johnny's back. Apolo wished he could see it on Johnny's face, wanted to see his mouth move around those sounds, wanted to see his eyes go glassy. He settled for the way Johnny's back bowed, for tasting the sweat at the nape of his neck. He listened to every gasping breath. Watched the way Johnny's hand fisted in the pillow under his head, long strained moan as he came in thick spurts. Apolo shuddered as Johnny's orgasm squeezed down on Apolo's dick in jerky pulses, shuddered and braced his hand on Johnny's belly, pulled him back tight as he thrust deep, again, again. His mouth dropped open, neck straining as he came.

"That was-" Johnny said, when they rolled apart. His chest heaved, his legs sprawled.

"Amazing," Apolo suggested.

"Okay for your first time," Johnny said with a shit-eating grin. "Great natural talent," Johnny slipped into his Russian accent. "Raw, but coachable, yes? Just needs training."

Apolo smacked him tiredly on the ass, laughing a little. "Shut up, you little shit."

Johnny laughed too, still in his thick accept. "I will help you." He nodded, stern, eyes narrowed. "Next time we reach a new personal best."

"I'll personal best you," Apolo grunted. He flopped his arm over Johnny's sweaty waist, yanked him in snug against Apolo's side. He nuzzled his cheek against Johnny's shoulder, and then tucked his face into the warm crook of his neck, tongue flicking out just a little to taste the salt of his skin. He wondered vaguely when he was going to start freaking out. It seemed like maybe he should, but he couldn't find the energy. He fell asleep to Johnny's breath tickling against his cheek, the sound of Johnny muttering in Russian.

*

Apolo woke up five minutes before his alarm would have gone off if he had set it. He didn't have to set his alarm any more. As of last night he was basically retired. He could roll over and go back to sleep until the press he had scheduled at noon. He didn't have to train. He didn't have to work his body until everything hurt. He could stay up as late as he wanted, sit in front of the TV, spend all day out with his friends. He could eat an entire bag of peanut M&Ms if he wanted. He could do anything. He was free. He sat up, grabbed his shoes and his gym bag. It didn't really feel like freedom. It felt a little bit like the world ending.

Johnny was up when he got back from the gym. Apolo took a long shower, hot water pounding the sore ache from his muscles. He swiped his hand through the steam on the mirror when he was done, watched himself appear fuzzy and water streaked. He frowned. He didn't look any different. It seemed like he should have looked different. He spread shaving cream on his cheeks, carefully scraped the razor over his jaw, butting up against the lines of the hair in the middle of his chin. He rinsed the razor and listened to Johnny singing Lada Gaga in the other room. He rubbed his fingers over the soft bristles on his chin, impulsively swiped a thick stripe of shaving cream over it.

"Hey, Johnny," he called.

Johnny poked his head in, wearing a little white silky robe thing that he hadn't bothered to tie shut. "Do you need me to explain how the faucets work again?"

"That was one time, and it's a complicated faucet," Apolo said. "The lever thing- With the pulling, and the-" He gave up. "It's tricky!"

"If you turn it to the side with the H the water gets hot." Johnny winked.

Apolo rolled his eyes and held out the razor in his hand. Johnny stared at it, stared at Apolo. "What are you doing?" he finally said, voice a little strangled.

"I thought you might want to do the honors," Apolo said. Johnny was still just standing there looking like- Well, he looked like he was either going to hit someone or burst into tears. "It's what you wanted, right?" Apolo said, suddenly uncertain. "What you wanted to do to my face?"

"But I didn't win," Johnny said quietly.

Apolo raised an eyebrow. "Neither did I."

"That's different," Johnny said, with a dismissive head shake. "I wanted to get fucked."

"And I want to do this," Apolo said. "I want you to do it." Johnny still didn't take the razor, just looked at Apolo with his arms crossed over his chest, his bare toes curling into the tile. Apolo hesitated, pulled his outstretched arm back, razor loose in his hand. "I'm missing something," he said. "What am I missing?"

Johnny took a step closer, touched Apolo's face tentatively. He turned Apolo's head to one side and then the other, assessing. He plucked the razor from Apolo's slack hand. "Hold still," he warned. Apolo sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, breath catching as Johnny carefully set the razor to his skin. Johnny's spread fingers pressed lightly, steadying against Apolo's throat. Apolo watched his eyes from close up, the tilt of his head when he was concentrating. He stared at Johnny's lips, was staring so hard it almost didn't register when they started to move. "I wish you wouldn't be so…" Johnny said softly, the razor scraping down over Apolo's chin. "Sweet." Johnny leaned past Apolo to rinse the blade, his chest brushing hot and bare against Apolo's arm.

"You want me to be mean to you?"

"Just a little," Johnny said, with a thin, sour smile. Apolo waited, silent, as the razor passed just under his lip, pulled down over his skin one more time.

When it was done, Apolo blankly asked, "Why?"

Johnny reached for a washcloth, didn't look at Apolo as he got it wet, wrung it out. "Because the day after tomorrow we go home." He wiped Apolo's chin clean, the cloth warm. Apolo tried to figure out what he was supposed to say to that. _Let's keep in touch_ or _Maybe we can hang out sometime when I'm in New York_. Right. Like either of them was buying that. Johnny's fingers played lightly over Apolo's bare chin, the skin there feeling raw, new. Johnny turned him around to face the mirror. "So much better," he said.

Apolo looked at himself, squinting, cocking his head. It was such a small thing. It was weird how it felt like it had changed the entire shape of his face, how it felt like he didn't quite recognize himself. He looked like he felt. Different.

Apolo touched his chin. His skin still felt too awake there, like it had never been touched before. He braced his arms on either side of Johnny, blocking him in against the sink. He leaned into Johnny until they were breathing the same air, until Johnny was pressed up close to his chest. He caught Johnny's lips. Kissed him slow and sweet, and didn't think about the day after tomorrow.

*

The thing about having a trademark centrally located in the middle of your face for like, a decade, was that people were definitely going to notice that it was gone. And they were going to ask why it was gone. And since the honest answer was something like, "I'm retired and possibly a little bit gay," Apolo wasn't really looking forward to the question. He thought about calling his dad to cancel lunch, but that would be blatantly hiding from the question, and Apolo wasn't a coward. Tried not to be anyway.

"I'm going to lunch now," he told Johnny, his hand on the doorknob.

Johnny looked up from where he was ironing his pants for the Closing Ceremonies tomorrow, "Thanks for the update." He raised his eyebrows when Apolo didn't actually open the door. "Uh-" He cocked his head. "You have to turn the knob."

Apolo thought wildly about asking Johnny to come with him. As distractions went, Johnny was pretty much like setting off a bomb. If you didn't want to be the center of attention, taking Johnny with you was guaranteed to make people forget you even existed. Apolo tried to picture him at the table with Apolo's dad, with his friends. Thought about his friends who had all cracked up when they'd heard who Apolo was rooming with, who'd made jokes about dropping the soap and e-mailed Apolo pictures of Johnny wearing heels. It was just- They were just like that. They didn't mean anything by it. But Christ- Never mind. Bad idea.

The walk over to the restaurant seemed like it took three years. It felt like everyone was looking at him, noticing him, wondering about him. He felt prickly and hyperaware. He felt a little like he was walking around naked. He couldn't stop fiddling with his chin either, touching at it.

"You look handsome," his dad said blandly, and dropped it.

"Thanks," Apolo said, and dropped it too.

They talked about his itinerary, all the appearances he had scheduled when he got back to The States, and it was fine. Maybe it was fine. But then his friends started showing up.

"You're kidding," Shani said, and burst out laughing.

"I'm recording this for Facebook. We need proof in case you grow it back by tomorrow," Jordan said.

"You're obviously some evil, or possibly good, Apolo clone from the Mirror Universe," Simon said. Whatever that meant.

"I kind of thought maybe you were hiding something under there," Travis said. "Like a terrible scar or a tiny treasure map."

Apolo's friends were all assholes. Basically.

"So how come you shaved it off?" JR said, and there it was. The question.

"Just felt like a change." Apolo shrugged, hunching a little over his food, trying not to blush or stutter or give anything at all away. Trying not to feel so naked. He chopped a couple of his onion rings in half with his fork. "End of an era. New directions. I don't know."

"Wow," JR said, voice bone dry. "That was deep, man."

"Who knew facial hair was all meaningful and shit?" Jordan said, then quickly corrected himself with a glance at Apolo's dad. "I mean, stuff." Yuki just raised his eyebrows.

"You should really write some of these thoughts you have down," Shani was saying. "Wisdom for the ages."

Apolo laughed and flicked him off under the table so his dad wouldn't see. "Keep talking, idiots. You wish you were as deep as me." He listened to about fourteen million more jokes at his expense. He laughed at them all. He felt sort of better.

*

The Closing Ceremonies were over, and Apolo's flight was leaving in exactly seven hours. The room was bare, all the candles and color packed away. There were suitcases lined up by the door. The closet was empty, and the walls were plain white, and Apolo was tasting the curve of Johnny's ankle, the bend of Johnny's knee. His hands were tracing up over the sleek muscles of his legs, up over the hard cage of his ribs. Memorizing the indent of his belly button and the hollow of his throat. He wanted to remember this. The way Johnny's breath felt rising in hard pants under his hand, the way his skin pinked up under Apolo's mouth, the fine tremble up his spine, and the wet flick of his tongue, and the way his lips tasted when they opened up so easily.

"Can I fuck you?" Apolo stroked his fingers over Johnny's eyebrows, down past his delicate cheekbones.

Johnny lifted his head to kiss him, quick little push of his lips. "Do you really have to ask?"

"I just like to hear you say it."

"Oh, fuck me," Johnny recited, keeping his voice completely bored and emotionless. "Fuck me with your big cock. I need that cock, daddy. Please." Apolo cracked up, nipping at his neck. Johnny laughed too, wrapping his arms around Apolo's chest, squeezing him close and tight. "But seriously," he said. "Fuck me." He tried to wiggle out from under the tangle of Apolo's arms, but Apolo didn't want him on his knees. He wanted to watch it twist on Johnny's face when he pushed inside. He dropped his weight down, boxed Johnny in with his thighs. He trapped Johnny's wrists up above his head, kissed him. Johnny kissed back, pushing up a little against Apolo's hands, back arching, hips moving restlessly. Apolo kissed him again, kissed him until he looked vague and breathless.

"Stay right there," Apolo whispered. "Just like that."

Johnny was already rolling over though, as Apolo shifted to grab a condom off the end table. Apolo moved to pull him back down, Johnny twisting around in his arms, the two of them pushing at each other a little like wrestling.

"Why won't you let me-" Apolo said, rolling them both over so Johnny was on his back with Apolo's full weight on top of him. "I want to see your face."

Johnny blushed, deep flush that spread down his neck. Apolo couldn't remember Johnny ever actually looking _embarrassed_ before. "Straight guys don't usually-" His eyes flicked away. "It's easier to pretend it's a girl from the back." He smirked, teasing and world-weary, but his cheeks were still a little flushed. "I mean asses are basically asses, you know?"

Apolo frowned. Angry. Just really pissed off all of a sudden. "Do you really think that- That I don't know who I'm fucking?" He grabbed Johnny's chin in his hand, ran his hand rough over the light stubble there. "I know who you are." His teeth gritted and he pushed Johnny down into the bed, scratched blunt nails down Johnny's flat chest, tugged hard at the hair under his arms, hard enough to make Johnny wince. He circled his hand around the warm weight of his dick, squeezed. "It's pretty fucking obvious that you're not a girl, man. I can- I can handle it, okay?"

"You can handle it," Johnny repeated flatly, his hand braced on Apolo's chest, pushing.

Apolo gave, squatting back on his heels. "You don't have to coddle me like I'm-" Apolo shook his head, jaw jumping. "I know what we've been doing. I know-" He swallowed hard, voice cracking despite himself. "I know exactly what it means."

"Sweetie," Johnny said, cutting. "Please. You don't know shit about what it means. What we've been doing is just here, in this room. It's just us." He added quickly, "And it'll stay that way. I'm very discreet about these things, if not about anything else." He looked at Apolo, mouth going a little softer, reaching out to circle his hand around Apolo's knee. "It's fine," he said. "It was really-" He shrugged helplessly, hand tightening. "It was good. But don't pretend you know what it is outside this room." His mouth twisted up a little, and he just looked- Apolo just didn't want him to think that he was by himself in this.

He slid back down over Johnny's body, slow and careful. "Listen." He pressed insistent kisses into Johnny's neck, onto his lips. "I don't know what kind of assholes you've been sleeping with." Johnny's hands dug into his back, knee coming up over his hip as he ground down. "But I'm not like that. I'm not going to pretend it never happened. When I leave here-"

Johnny panted, breath coming too hard, eyes too bright. "Yeah?" Johnny said. He bit Apolo's lip, smiled glossy hard with all his teeth. "Are you going to tell Jay Leno about all the ass you got at the Village? Are you going to tell your friends how you sucked my cock?" He laughed, sharp. "I bet the sponsors would love that." He touched Apolo's bottom lip gently, touched it where it was sore from his teeth. "Are you going to hold my hand on the red carpet? Introduce me to your dad?"

"I- " Apolo looked into his eyes, helpless. Watched him wait to hear exactly what he already knew Apolo was going to say. Wished Apolo could surprise him. Wished he could, but- "I _can't_." It hurt his throat coming out, scraped dry and rough.

"I know," Johnny said, smoothing his hair back from his face. "I know that. I don't need you to. I'm not asking you to."

It made it worse somehow, that Johnny didn't expect it of him, that he didn't expect anything. He just wanted to show Johnny that it mattered, that Apolo knew it mattered. "God, I just want-" Apolo said. He just wanted to not be afraid. "Fuck me," he blurted.

Johnny's forehead wrinkled up. "What?"

"Will you, um-" Apolo could feel himself starting to go cold, tense. Starting to think about how this was a bad, bad idea. The worst idea he'd ever had probably. "Fuck me?"

"Oh, honey," Johnny said, and he sounded so sweet and soft and filled with _pity_. Apolo hated it. "You don't have to do that," Johnny said. "You don't have to prove anything to me."

He did though. It felt like he did. "I need-" He just needed Johnny to know that he wasn't lying to himself. Even if he still had to lie to everyone else. "Please don't make me beg."

*

It hurt. That first shove in. But Apolo was close friends with pain. Ten years, twelve years, pushing himself past his limits and there was no kind of pain his body didn't know. This was just a little hurt, only a small burn. It wasn't the pain that made his breath go shaky, hands clenching into fists, his face twisting with discomfort. It was just- It was the way it felt inside, so thick and big and weird and just- It was the way it didn't feel like it fit right, the way it was all he could feel, just this thing inside him. It was the way it made him feel embarrassed, kind of helpless. Johnny's fingers had been different somehow. He'd sucked Apolo off first, built the heat up until Apolo was straining and wanting and desperate before he slipped his fingers in. He'd stroked against something so good inside, Apolo had gone shaky with it, hazy, and so hard. Needing to come so bad he couldn't think about anything else. But this was different. This felt-

Johnny moved slowly, working in carefully, rocking just a little. Apolo thought he got it now why Johnny hadn't wanted to do it this way, chest to chest and face to face and so _close_. He wished that he was on his knees because looking up into Johnny's face right now was kind of a lot. Meeting his eyes with Johnny's dick inside him, working deeper in. It was kind of- He looked past Johnny's shoulder, biting down on his bottom lip, hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets beside him. Just trying to breathe.

"You have to tell me if it's good," Johnny said. "I don't- It's been a while since I've been on this side." He touched Apolo's cheek, tapped at it until Apolo met his eyes again. "So just- Tell me so I can make it good."

"Um," Apolo said. "Okay. It's kind of-" He winced, shifting uncomfortably. "It's okay, I guess?"

Johnny laughed, jagged, his hand stroking up Apolo's thigh where it was bent back against his chest, his fingers circling Apolo's dick. "Hang on. It's going to get better in a minute." He started to move, easing out, back in, thrusts smoothing out. Hot hand moving on Apolo's dick. It wasn't _good_ exactly, but it was okay. Apolo closed his eyes, just trying to wait it out. This wasn't even about getting off anyway, it was about showing Johnny that he wasn't a complete coward. And then Johnny's dick was nudging up against that spot inside that made Apolo jolt, made him ache.

"Fuck," he breathed as Johnny angled in again, blunt press against that good place. Again. Fuck, again.

"Better?" Johnny said, smiled. He pushed in deep. Slow, thick push that filled Apolo up with him. Pushed in again, deliberate nudge just where Apolo needed it, pressing, pressing. "Good?" Johnny said, leaning forward, hips rolling smooth now, dick sliding in easy. Apolo's head tipped back, a long whimper in his throat as he felt it build in his body, sweet pressure so deep he felt strung out on it, drunk like everything was broken apart into just the hard, hot throb of Johnny inside him. The hard, hot throb of his own dick aching between his legs. Johnny's hand stroking erratic around his dick, just enough to keep him wound up, not enough to come. The low burn in his thighs, the stretch as Johnny pressed him back, fingers digging into the bend of his knee. Sliding in again, filling Apolo up so tight. God- Again. Oh, fuck. So full. Fuck-Oh-Fuck-Oh. He realized he was saying it out loud, breathy little grunts punched out of him with every thrust. Johnny settled over him, skin too hot on Apolo's overheated body, his nose brushing light against Apolo's. So close.

Apolo could see every flutter of Johnny's eyelashes. He watched the flush spread over his chest, down his neck. Watched the sweat drip down his neck, drip down onto Apolo's skin. He watched the twist of his mouth, his whole face crumpling up pretty and pained as he slid in again, little hitch in his breath. He met Apolo's eyes, hips moving faster in thick jabs. Apolo touched his face, slid his thumbs over the wet that spilled out of the corners of Johnny's eyes. Johnny shuddered a little, hard push, fast, needy little jolts in. Apolo slid his arms up past Johnny's underarms, grabbed onto Johnny's shoulder blades, his forehead tipping forward into Johnny's collarbone. Held on.

Johnny's hand sped up on Apolo's dick, working cramped between them. Apolo came, fingers digging into Johnny's back, dick pulsing and pulsing helplessly, spilling up onto his stomach. Johnny fucked him through it, Apolo going loose and heavy as he fucked in again. Fucked in until he was tensing up, until Apolo could feel the hard twitch of it inside, the rough jerk of him shooting off into the condom.

He winced when Johnny pulled out, at the sore tug as he slipped free. The way it left him feeling so empty.

*

"Do you think this was your last one?" Apolo asked quietly in the dark. He propped himself up on his elbow, nudged at Johnny's shoulder with his chin.

Johnny stared up at the ceiling. "I mean, I'm 25 now," he said, getting what Apolo meant. He flicked a small smile in Apolo's direction. "Positively decrepit."

Apolo nodded, inched his fingers along the cut of Johnny's hip, crawled them up over each of his ribs. "You know how you said it all stays here? In this room?" It had felt like a relief then. Like something to cling to. But now it felt- It seemed like there was too much here to leave it all behind. He tried to figure out how to ask if they could maybe just take a little bit of it with them.

"It stays here," Johnny said firmly. He shifted over so he was on his side, reached out to touch Apolo's face, cup his jaw in his hand. "Don't worry. It all stays here."

So that was that then.

*

When Apolo woke up, Johnny was ironing. In the middle of the night. Apolo squinted, confused, eyes painful and dry. "What are you doing?"

"We don't have a vacuum," Johnny said, like that made sense.

Apolo traced his fingers over the bite marks on the inside of the thigh, pressing down a little with his thumb, pressing until it hurt. He looked over at the alarm clock. Two hours before he had to leave for the airport.

He fished Johnny's phone out of his bag while he was in the shower. He added himself to Johnny's contact list, typed in "Call Me" instead of his name. Thought about adding "Please" but that seemed kind of desperate.

*

Apolo sat on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and dressed, with his duffle beside him and his credentials around his neck, and his suitcase ready to go. He nudged Johnny with his elbow. "I'm really glad they screwed up our housing arrangements." He smiled. It felt a little wobbly on his lips.

"I've had worse roommates," Johnny agreed lightly. He nudged Apolo back.

At the door, he pulled Apolo into a tight hug, pressed his lips to Apolo's cheek. Apolo caught him by the shirt, pulled him back in to press their lips together, soft. Johnny touched Apolo's chin lightly, then pushed his face away with a wide open palm.

"Best Olympics ever," he said.

*

It was five weeks before Apolo was done with every appearance, every scheduled obligation. Five weeks he spent looking at the inside of a lot of airports and sleeping in a different hotel every other night, eating maybe a little more than he should have, and checking his phone too often to make sure he hadn't accidentally missed any calls.

He slept with a few girls, and the thing about that was he still really liked boobs, and he still really liked fucking into a nice, wet pussy. But when he jacked off in the shower it was pretty much always Johnny's lips he was thinking about, Johnny's slim hips, and Johnny's perfect ass, and Johnny's cock in his mouth.

He looked for Johnny at the Oscar parties, thought he saw him out of the corner of his eye twenty different times, but it was never him. He didn't even know what he would have said if it had been, what he would have done.

Five weeks, and he still didn't really know what his life was now. There were a lot of things in the works, he guessed. His agent seemed excited, called a lot and said things about opportunities, doors opening. But he was still waiting for the part where he got used to not being who he'd been before. For the part where he figured out who he was going to be now. Five weeks, and the only thing he was sure of was that he couldn't leave it all in that room in the Village. Five weeks, and now he was standing outside Johnny's apartment, knocking.

Johnny pulled the door open. Froze. He had a bandana wrapped around his head, and a bright green tank top on. There was a dust buster in his hand.

"You didn't call," Apolo said.

Johnny blinked away the shock, eyebrow rising. "You're stalking me," he said.

"A little bit, yeah."

Johnny stepped away from the door awkwardly, motioning for Apolo to come in. He jammed the dust buster under the coffee table. "I was cleaning," he said. "I look like shit." He pulled the bandana off his head, ruffled his hand through his hair. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Apolo looked down at the neat lines in the carpet, traced one with his toe. "The thing is," he said. "I know you deserve someone who's as brave as you are. And I know I'm not that guy, yet. I don't even know if I can be. But I want to- I know it's selfish, but-"

"Stop talking for a second." He grabbed Apolo by the collar, hauled him in and kissed him rough and hungry. All tongue and teeth and the breathless push into each other. "Mmmm," he said when he pulled back, his tongue flicking out against his bottom lip, his eyes heavy lidded. His shirt was all twisted at the neck where Apolo had been pulling at it. His hair was ruffled from Apolo's hands, and his lips were plumped up from Apolo's mouth, and Apolo wanted to never stop touching him. Johnny looked up through his eyelashes. "Hi." He gave a little wave, grinning.

Apolo laughed. "Hi."

"Okay." He straightened his shirt, hands fluttering a little, smoothing over the back of his neck. "Seriously, what are you doing here? I wasn't listening before." He was still smiling, wide and unapologetic. His eyes were shiny, wet. Apolo was smiling too, couldn't stop smiling.

"I want you," he said. "I don't know how to leave it behind. I don't know how to stop. I don't know if I can be what you need, but I want you."

"You're here," Johnny said, hand sliding around Apolo's waist. He pressed his lips to Apolo's neck. "Right now that's all I need."

He walked Apolo backwards until they both tumbled down onto the couch. His skin was warm under Apolo's fingers, and his mouth was open against Apolo's lips. Right now it was enough.

end


End file.
